


Hamartia

by Panickedfish



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cottagecore, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Island Living, M/M, Multi, One Big Happy Family, Telling the Prophesy No Thank You
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:34:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25947421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panickedfish/pseuds/Panickedfish
Summary: A prophesy unfulfilled  A road not taken. In this alternate ending for Song of Achilles, Patroclus, Achilles, and Briseis opt out of seeing the siege of Troy to its conclusion. Starting a new life on an uninhabited island, they form a new family and live out the rest of their days in peaceful obscurity.
Relationships: Achilles & Patroclus (Song of Achilles), Achilles/Briseis/Patroclus (Song of Achilles), Achilles/Patroclus (Song of Achilles)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	1. Fig

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first AO3 fic I hope you like it <3 I'm really excited to write this story!

The sun was high overhead and Patroclus had to shield his eyes from the harsh rays as he looked up. He watched the branches tremble, bow, and shake. From within the folds of the leaves, a delicate hand extended outward towards a fruit tantalizingly almost out of reach.

“Achilles, come down!” Patroclus called up towards the branches of the fig tree. They trembled overhead somewhat chaotically, more the result of an arboreal intruder than due to the trade winds that swept across the island this time of day.

“I only need another moment, this one’s  _ perfect _ .” Achilles’ smooth voice sounded from the depths of the branches. The tree shook slightly as he reached for a newly ripened fig and plucked it from the tree.

“Can you catch, Patroclus?”

A shiver ran down the spine of the dark haired man. Even after all these years, Achilles’ melodic voice separating his name into those three distinct syllables filled him with a unique joy. He never tired of hearing his name spoken by that man.

“I can certainly try.”

“Stand underneath me, a little to the left. There you go. Now, hold up your hands and get ready.”

  
  


Patroclus raised his hands, doing as he was told. He bit off a retort before it could spring to his lips. Even in this self-imposed exile on Eulimna, hundreds of leagues from Troy, Achilles acted as though he were a prince, unwilling or unable to break the habit of issuing all the orders.

Not that Patroclus would have it any other way.

A moment later, the fig fell down towards him, pulled ever earthward by the force of gravity. Patroclus caught it gently, hoping it would not bruise. The flesh of the fruit was a dark colour and perfectly formed, like a fat raindrop. It was slightly smaller than palm-sized and looked good enough to eat. Patroclus rolled it in his hands eagerly. Hopefully Achilles would share. 

“I’m coming down now,” Achilles said from the tree. With the grace of the half-god he was, he climbed down and then swung himself out from the tree, landing on the sunbaked earth with a soft exhale. His shoulder-length blond hair settled around his shoulders like a halo. Standing, he brushed his palms together to wipe away any residual sap or dust. He looked at Patroclus.

“Thank you for your help.” Achilles said earnestly. He held out his hand for the fig. 

Patroclus gave it to him, amazed at how this fully grown man could retain so much of his boyish tendencies. It was almost as if they were twelve again, and he was in exile, living at Phthia as Achilles’ t _herapon_.

When their fingers brushed, Patroclus caught the mischievous look in his companion’s eye. Without exchanging any words, they fell into step with each other and walked together on a newly formed path. The destination: their usual spot, the ruin of an old wall down by the water’s edge. 

Achilles sat on the wall, and Patroclus took his spot right beside. Their shoulders touched, and Patroclus kicked off his sandals to let his feet breathe. Achilles was already barefoot.

“Do you want to go for a swim?” Achilles asked.

The Aegean was a beautiful blue colour that mirrored the sky. Whitecaps glistened on the waves and fish were visible in the distance, leaping out of the water and becoming food for hungry frigate birds that hovered just above the waves.

_ At least we will not be without food, _ Patroclus thought to himself. Poseidon had claimed allegiance with the Greeks during the war and so he hoped the god would allow him and Achilles to remain unaccounted on their new island home. 

Thinking about the war made Patroclus’s mood immediately turn sour. 

Some time had passed. They had been on this island for almost a fortnight, having made the boat trip from the shores of Troy when Agamemnon refused to apologize for the sleight of taking Briseis from Achilles. When Achilles and Patroclus made the difficult decision to leave the shores of Troy, leaving her had not been an option. Even now, she slept in the crude shelter they made on the side of one of the island’s verdant and grassy hills.

“Patroclus? Did you hear me?” 

Patroclus shook his head. “Sorry. I seem to be lost in my thoughts.”

“Do you want some fig, then?” 

“No, thank you.”

At this pronouncement, Achilles shrugged and took a bite from the fruit, juice dribbling onto his chin which was lined with a fine stubble. He wiped at his chin with the back of his wrist. 

“Something has gotten into you,” he announced. “I don’t suppose you are angry with me?” This last part a question asked with a faint flavour of hesitation.

“No,” Patroclus said softly. 

“Out with it then.”

Patroclus took a deep breath. “I worry you will be upset with me.”

Achilles’ mouth turned downward, surprised. “What did you do? Forget to haul fresh water from the stream for me and Briseis? Yes, Patroclus, I am upset with you.”

He was being facetious but Patroclus was not in the mood for a jest. He knew he could not dance around the conversation any longer. Enough with trying to be delicate, it was time to be brutally honest and finally face the conversation he had been avoiding.

“I worry because we three are on an island in the middle of nowhere, far away from the war we were born to fight! We broke our blood oath to protect Helen and are leaving her to the mercy of Paris and the Trojans.”

Achilles leaned back on his hands pensively. “Aphrodite knew what she was doing when she offered Helen to Paris if he named her the most beautiful of the goddesses. It is wrong for thousands of humans to die because of her vanity, and the egos of all the gods. Why fight for their amusement?”

_ Not so loud _ , Patroclus wanted to say. He did not think the gods would be listening, but one never knew for sure.

“And you?” Patroclus said instead. “Did you know what you were doing when you agreed to what I asked of you in that tent? To flee with me and Breseis? Did you realize you were throwing away a glorious death for the banalities of seventy or more years marooned with me?”

Achilles’ face hardened. “I knew exactly what I was doing, and I have no regrets.”

Patroclus looked out over the water and sighed. “I want to believe you, truly. I only worry that you will hate me, Achilles, for I am a human who held you back from reaching your true potential as _aristos achaion._ You are the greatest warrior of our generation, no one could hold a candle to you.”

Achilles was silent for a long moment.

“Do you remember, Patroclus, when I told you there was no such thing as a hero who was happy?”

“As I remember, we could name not a one. Then again, I also remember that you promised to be the first.”

Achilles offered a wan smile. “I did believe that, once. I was young and foolish, and that part of me died a few years ago on the plain outside Troy. The old Achilles did not yet understand the banalities of war and the stupidity of man. I have since grown and realized that not every hero is obligated to fulfill their destiny. In fact, it is one of the easiest ways to avoid tragedy.”

“Then I have made you selfish,” Patroclus declared. 

“That may be. Achilles murmured. He touched Patroclus’ face, tracing the line of his jaw from his ear to his collarbone. “Although, I would rather be selfish and keep the other half of my soul than to give it away for a chance at glory.”

Patroclus felt heat rising to his cheeks and tried to look away. Achilles held his gaze and Patroclus raised his hand to grasp the other man’s wrist. He stared at Achilles’ face, noticing both the uncertainty of this new path and the deep love that made him believe this new life was possible.

Achilles went on. “Our fates are entwined. They have been since those first games when we laid eyes on each other, and I would truly have to be a mad man to choose a legacy over a lifetime spent with you. You are my _philtatos._ ”


	2. Seafoam

Patroclus did eventually accept Achilles’ offer for a bite of fig. Sun-warmed and sweet, it tasted like honey. Chewing thoughtfully, he tried to swallow his anxiety along with the fruit, but they both caught in his throat for a brief but terrifying moment.

Once he had regained his breath, he asked Achilles “So what is next on our agenda?”

“I will go see Briseis and ask her what she thinks of turning the top of the hill into some kind of terrace. I think we can search for some seeds and start to grow our own vegetables.”

Of course he has a plan. Patroclus realized. It was part of the man’s nature.

Though no longer on the battlefield, Patroclus was relieved to have someone taking command of the situation. Achilles seemed determined to ensure his new destiny and make sure the three of them were fully utilizing the island and its resources.

“Anything I can do?” Patroclus asked hopefully. He wanted to be given a task that would make him forget his anxiety.

Achilles, though, had other plans. “Not at this moment. Perhaps you could take it easy? I want you to at least try to relax.”

“I cannot relax,” Patroclus muttered, looking at the ground beneath his feet.

Achilles slid off the wall and stepped towards Patroclus, who was still seated. Achilles put his hands on the wall on either side of Patroclus, containing him within his muscled arms.

“Try,” Achilles insisted.

Patroclus drew breath to start to explain that the tedium of war was almost as bad as having to sit with his discontentment on a deserted island, but Achilles was faster.

He leaned in and kissed Patroclus softly on the lips, making the other man forget - momentarily - all about what he was going to say. Patroclus closed his eyes and deepened the kiss, reaching up to take Achilles’ face in his hands. Achilles pushed his body closer to Patroclus and Patroclus widened his knees to further wrap himself around Achilles, his anchor.

After a few more beautiful moments, Achilles pulled back.

“Maybe I do want to go for a swim,” Patroclus said, somewhat hoarsely. Even though some clouds were rolling in, he was starting to feel hot.

Achilles smiled. “You can help Briseis and I clear some land later this afternoon.”

Patroclus nodded.

“See you,” Patroclus said to Achilles’ side and back as the other man turned to leave.

~~~

The Aegean was cool and refreshing, especially after being in the sun. Once offshore and swimming in deeper water, Patroclus dove down to the bottom and scooped up an unoccupied snail shell. Iridescently, it shimmered. Tucking it next to his thigh in his underclothes, he thought it might make for a nice housewarming gift for Briseis before almost immediately feeling foolish for thinking she might like that. In her former life, she was married to a king’s son, after all. If she had chosen to accompany Achilles and him to their new exile, it was likely safe to say that knick knacks were not among her values. She was here simply because she wanted to be, and because the alternative was too horrible to mention.

To her credit, and in spite of the life she had been used to before becoming Achilles’ war prize, Briseis never once said she may be regretting her choice. She had fallen in love with them, after all. In the fortnight they had been on the island so far, she was only wanting to help make the best life for them all.

Patrocles remembered when he had gone to her tent on the plain outside of Troy. He bore heavy news - that he and Achilles were leaving. Briseis seemed unsurprised; perhaps as though she were expecting this development since her conversation with Patrocles where she had asked him to make her a mother. Within a few minutes, she had quietly packed a small bag of belongings and was ready to join them as they deserted in the middle of the night. She had whispered into his ear that she loved them and so trusted her choice.

Love, thought Patroclus as he drifted on his back, eyes closed against Helios’ rays. His and Achilles’ was _agape_ , the selfless and all-encompassing love, the kind of emotion that made one bold enough to decline the favour of the gods. Briseis seemed to harbour feelings of eros towards him, wanting him to give her a child, while in turn Patroclus thought of her with the more familiar _philia_.

With all these different expressions of love, Patroclus just hoped that it would be enough of these emotions to carry throughout the rest of their lives together.

~~~

It started with seafoam. A small wave rippled out from an unseen disturbance. It rippled and crested discordantly, at a different angle than the others. Patroclus’ eyes flew open and he was able to gasp for only a shallow breath before he was pulled under by an undertow that felt suspiciously like a cold, slimy hand pulling him down by the ankle.

Underwater, Patroclus forced his eyes open. Through stinging eyes, he looked around and saw Thetis hovering in the water, her face a few feet away. Her long hair fanned out behind her like the poisonous fins of a scorpionfish.

Patroclus tried to swim for the surface but Thetis held on to him. She spoke underwater, her Nereid voice echoing in Patroclus’ mind as her bubbles rose to the surface where Patroclus could not go.

**_The prophecy said my son would achieve greatness in his short life. Then he had the misfortune of meeting you._ **

Patroclus tried to get away from her all encompassing presence, holding him under.

**_Now Achilles will have a long and dull life._ **

Patroclus felt his lungs burning, his legs moving spastically.

**_His name will be lost to history._ **

The edges of Patroclus’ vision were growing dark. He barely heard Thetis’ last admonishment.

_**All thanks to you... What a waste of the gods’ favour.** _

Everything went black.


End file.
